I get busy and I don't tell you every day, but every time you post one of these pics, I really enjoy it, my dear.
This one is so lovely, and I don't quite know why it does, but it makes me feel just a little sad. Like i should just smooth the poor feather back down. Like it's mourning, missing the beak that used to preen it. Like it one had the sky, and now it's just discarded among the sharp rocks, the little piles of detritus. Its beauty no longer appreciated, because its beauty was part of a greater whole, and without its community of other plumage, it is seen as useless, rubbish, a waste of organic material.
Like a broken guitar string.
Or an oboe without its orchestra.
Or maybe I've just been writing too much anthropomorphic fic in my head.
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This one is so lovely, and I don't quite know why it does, but it makes me feel just a little sad. Like i should just smooth the poor feather back down. Like it's mourning, missing the beak that used to preen it. Like it one had the sky, and now it's just discarded among the sharp rocks, the little piles of detritus. Its beauty no longer appreciated, because its beauty was part of a greater whole, and without its community of other plumage, it is seen as useless, rubbish, a waste of organic material.
Like a broken guitar string.
Or an oboe without its orchestra.
Or maybe I've just been writing too much anthropomorphic fic in my head.